Our First Motorcycle Trip

"Faster, faster, faster, until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death..."
Hunter S. Thompson

Well, we didn't go thaa-at fast, but a week of riding under a crystal-blue Indian Summer sky through southern Manitoba, North and South Dakota and Wyoming was nothing short of a spiritual experience.

Aside from the obvious destination highlights of the the trip, including the iconic Mt. Rushmore, the bohemoth and eerie Devil's Tower (above), and the legendary gunslinging town of Deadwood, supposed site of "Wild Bill" Hickok's last days, the highlight of the trip for me was simply being on a 1450cc Soft-tail Springer Harley Davidson, riding alongside Holly and her dad, and her brother, Lincoln, ripping up the highway on three bikes with nothing but open road and blue sky above us.

In total, we covered just over 3,000 km, approximately the distance from Toronto to Porcupine Plain. With it being so late in the riding season, we virtually had the highway all to ourselves, often riding for over an hour without seeing another car. And with such perfect weather and pristine road conditions we couldn't resist testing some engine muscle. On a few straight stretches, Lincoln clocked over 170 kilometres an hour, and my bike peaked at 165 kilometres an hour. I am not usually an adreneline junkie, but when you are going that fast on a bike on such a postcard perfect landscape, your heart almost explodes with happiness. I've had perma-grin ever since, my cheeks actually hurt from grinning so hard - I feel like the Joker from Batman!

There were a few isolated moments of bad weather, and we would have to leather-up in our chaps, gauntlet gloves, and goggles to protect us from the biting cold, but even those moments were blissful, with the smell of leather, gasoline, and cow manure in pastured green fields filling our nostrils. Holly's dad, who loves riding in the states, goes helmetless as soon as he crosses the border so he can capture every subtle sensory nuance, but Holly, Linc and I kept our helmets on.

Holly really loved it too, although probably in a much more passive way since she was a passenger on her dad's bike. She really liked feeling so carefree, being on the open road with all the fresh air, no schedule, no itinerary except choosing which roadside pub / diner to stop at to eat, drink and play pool. Plus, Holly was our onboard photographer, and as you might notice in our photo diary of the trip (see link entitled, motorcycle photo diaries), she took some beauties. I think photography runs in the Agnew blood.

The entire trip went by without any major accident or incident. Well....except for maybe one, tiny, measly, horrific little disaster! To my chagrin, on the first day of our trip, in fact, in the first 15 seconds of us pulling away from the house in Brandon, making my very, very first left-handed turn, having never riden a big bike, nevermind an actual $22,000 Harley Davidson bike, I lost control of it, hit the curb, jumped off, and watched in absolute horror as the bike bounced off the curb and skidded onto it's side, front tire still spinning like a wounded chrome beast, the scene stopping city traffic and drew a crowd of spectators. In that moment, I thought I dropped a sh*tbomb on our entire bike trip. I thought that in my first 15 seconds of riding, I ended my motorcycle career. I thought I would be banished from ever riding a motorcycle again.

To my infinite relief, however, Holly's dad lifted up the bike and straightened out the foot boards which I thought were irreversably bent and would cost me a year's salary to fix but in actuality are built to bend automatically whenever a bike tips to prevent damage. He dusted off the seat and said, "it's fine, get on." In that brief moment, I had the urge to kiss Holly's dad, realizing I had not destroyed a $22,000 bike and had not ruined our entire trip. As it turns out, the bike wasn't at all damaged since the case guards, which all Harleys have, prevented any damage to the body of the bike. The only thing damaged was my pride. However, after this brutal initiation to riding, that was the only incident of the trip.

Make sure you check out the Motorcycle photo diaries link on the Hashimoto Herald home page! Write comments to Hashman4@hotmail.com or on the Hashimoto Herald site.